


or something more

by reformedcharacter



Series: i've gone weak and i'm sick of speakin' [2]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Aftercare, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, cute husbands being cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 12:09:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17365670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reformedcharacter/pseuds/reformedcharacter
Summary: whenever aaron needs him, robert is there.or, aftercare.





	or something more

**Author's Note:**

> this was going to be about 2k longer than this but after sitting in my docs untouched since september i thought sod it and just uploaded it. i hope you enjoy.

Aaron comes to with a dry mouth and a deep pain shooting down his neck. His tongue is heavy in his mouth, dull, as though too big for his sore throat. His eyes are still screwed tightly closed as he shifts slightly, the bedsheets he lays on crinkling loudly in time with his fidgeting. 

Robert is murmuring in his sleep behind him, short puffs of air and low grunts escaping his lips in unison with the rise and fall of his chest. Robert’s skin is still damp with sweat, his sticky chest almost clings to Aaron’s back in a way that makes Aaron shudder, the heat pouring out of Robert’s body washing Aaron in an uncomfortable warmth.

They’ve forgotten to close the blinds again, Aaron realises as his eyes twitch open; the street lights outside flood their room with a soft yellow light, casting black shadows up the pale cream walls. He twists his head upwards, his neck cracking in the process, to glance at the garishly bright, flashing green numbers on his alarm clock. 3:47am. 

He lets out a heavy sigh, which Robert responds to with a heavy kick to his shin, uncut toenails digging their familiar crescent shaped marks into Aaron’s skin. The duvets been kicked to the end of the bed, Robert’s large feet laying tangled in the white fabric, and the lays hanging precariously off the edge of the bed frame. 

Aaron breathes deeply again, a sharp pain stabbing at his side, before he silently shuffles out of Robert’s clutch. His fingers prise Robert’s away from their position on his stomach and lays his hand where Aaron had previously lay. Aaron pauses as Robert stirs, holds his breath and freezes, but Robert merely lets out a small groan before shoving his face deeper into the pillow. 

He hurriedly stuffs his legs into the boxers, which he’s sure are technically Robert’s, which lay closest to the bed, not-so gracefully shoved into a gap underneath the bedside table. The hallway is dark, and with Liv’s door, his sister hopefully long asleep, and Sebastian with grandma Diane for the night, deafening silent. The stairs creak under his feet as he pads downstairs, the metal frame complaining at being disturbed so late into the night. 

He reaches the kitchen with as little noise as he can manage, grabbing a glass from the draining board and filling it with lukewarm tap water, not wanting to risk waking the house with the loud bubbling of the kettle. He’s limping as he heads towards the sofas, the soft cushions a welcome distraction to the dull ache at the base of his spin, shooting and spinning up his back. An ache has spread throughout his limbs, arms heavy and muscles tight. 

He knows, if he were to drag himself up from the sofa to look in the mirror, that his neck is decorated in red patches and teeth marks; Robert making the most of Aaron’s newly shortened beard by latching his teeth to every available spot he can find. He also knows that he has left similar looking marks on the expanse of Robert’s pale thighs.

Aaron gulps down the water quickly, water trickling out of the glass and out of the corners of his lips, droplets trailing down his chin. The glass is almost empty as he hears the staircase creak behind him. 

“Aaron?” Robert whispers.

He turns his head slightly, the pain in his neck causing a wince to fall from his lips, to face his husband. Robert’s rubbing his eyes, his hair flat against his forehead, his pyjama shirt rumpled and wrinkled, the waistband of his boxers peeking out of the top of Aaron’s jogging bottoms that Robert must have pulled on after he noticed the left side of the bed’s emptiness. 

“You alright?” He asks, falling into the seat next to him. 

Aaron goes to nod his head, wanting to continue sitting in silence before dragging himself to bed, but he thinks again. He shakes his head.

Robert is almost immediately more alert, leaning forward to take Aaron’s hand. He uses his other to press to Aaron’s forehead, and despite the overwhelming exhaustion flooding through him, Aaron snorts. He bats away Robert’s hand from his face and turns to face him properly. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just, I’m aching.”

“From what?”

Aaron looks up at his through his eyelashes, a blush rising up his necks and to his cheeks as he watches the the realisation dawn on Robert’s face. He bites his lip and looks back down at his lap.

Robert shuffles closer, pulling one leg underneath his body, and lays their still intertwined hands on his knee. “Did we go too far?” He murmurs, eyebrows creased in concern, as his eyes roam Aaron’s body. 

Aaron quickly shakes his head, “No, no I’d have stopped if we were going too far. It was just,” He pauses, before landing on the right word, “Intense.”

“You should have woken me up.”

“You were dead to world, mate. I had no chance of waking you up.”

Robert pushes Aaron’s shoulder lightly, a teasing grin on his face, before Aaron winces again.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.” Robert shuffles closer again, laying his hand softly on Aaron’s shoulder.

Aaron shakes his head, “Don’t be. It’s not like I didn’t enjoy it.”

Robert attempts another smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, before sighing. “Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

Robert stands first, hand still wrapped tightly around Aaron’s, and pulls him up gently. He wraps an arm around Aaron’s waist before maneuvering him over to the staircase, their bare feet cold against the wooden floor. 

“‘M not an invalid, Rob.” Aaron mumbles under his breath, but Robert catches it in the quiet of the room.

He leans down and presses a kiss to the crown of Aaron’s head, short hair rubbing against his chin, “Humour me.”

Aaron ascends the stairs first, the cold metal sending chills through him as he climbs up, Robert only one step behind him. 

Their room is still dark as they enter, Robert not turning their lamps on either, and they shuffle underneath the blanket in silence. Aaron turns on to his side, wanting to be closer to Robert, and curls into him. He lays his head on Robert’s chest, his shirt soft against his cheek, and places his hand on Robert’s stomach. Robert’s arms wrap themselves tightly around Aaron, squeezing him tighter, and he kisses the top of his head again.

“If you need to wake me up, please do.” He whispers into Aaron’s hair.

Aaron nods quickly and allows his exhaustion to finally engulf him; his eyes fluttering closed, breathing slowing, and he finally submits to sleep.  

 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr at frecklysugden


End file.
